Bertrand Russell… once wrote that the people in a democracy tend to think they have less to fear from a stupid man than from an intelligent one.
We never manage to say anything new when we get onto the subject of my inadequacy and your … what shall we call it this time? Athleticism? Since, according to the ground rules of our marriage we may call it anything except plain old-fashioned promiscuity.
The Age of the Great Hicks, to which I belong, is over. The people trust you rich boys, figurin’ since you got a lot of money of your own, you won’t be stealin’ theirs.
Well, son, you got such a good mind that sometimes you’re so busy thinkin’ how complex everything is, important problems don’t get solved.
Well, the world’s changed since I was politickin’. In those days, you had to pour God over everything, like ketchup.
Oh, these rumors about you and your lady friends… won’t do you a bit of harm. But keep out of trouble. You haven’t gone and written any letters like some fellows do?
Jensen: Come on, hurry up, the natives of Texas are getting restless. Now remember on the oil issue… Russell: I know. I know. Double talk! For those whom we are about the deceive, oh Lord, make us truly compassionate!
You went after a bunch of poor Sicilian bandits on the Lower East Side of New York and pretended they were running all the crime in America. Well, they’re not. Of course we have a pretty fair idea who is, but you didn’t go after any of them, did you? No, sir, because those big rascals are heavy contributors to political campaigns.
Cantwell: I suppose you find promiscuity admirable? Hockstader: I couldn’t care less. I was brought up on a farm and the lesson of the rooster was not entirely lost on me.
It’s not that I mind you bein’ a bastard, don’t get me wrong there… It’s your bein’ such a stupid bastard I object to.
Jensen: Bill, you may have to pull a Nixon. Russell: And what does “pull a Nixon” mean? Jensen: Go on television. And cry on the nation’s shoulder. With two cocker spaniels.
Hockstader: Major Marcus, am I to understand by the way you are beating slowly around the bush that Joe Cantwell is what… when I was a boy… we called a de-generate? Marcus: Yes, sir, Mr. President, that’s just what I mean… Russell: I don’t believe it! Nobody with that awful wife and those ugly children could be anything but normal!
We’ve had some very good Presidents who have slept around a lot more than Bill Russell ever did. And in White House, too.
Hockstader: Worst damn thing ever happened to this country, giving the women the vote. Trouble, trouble, trouble. They got no more sense than a bunch of geese. Give ’em a big smile and a pinch on the… anatomy and you got ten votes. Alice: May I quote you, Mr. President? Hockstader: I will deny ever having made such a vile and un-American statement.
If you don’t start to fight, you are finished. Now I am here to tell you this: Power is not a toy we give to good children; it is a weapon and the strong man takes it and he uses it and I can assure you he don’t turn it on himself nor let another man come at him with a knife that he don’t fight back. Well, that knife is at your throat and if you don’t go down there and beat Cantwell to the floor with this very dirty stick, then you got no business in this big league, and bastard or not I’ll help Joe Cantwell take the whole damned world if he wants it, because it’s not for you and never will be!
You really do think you’re better than all of us, with your bad jokes, and the admiration of a lot of bleeding-heart fellow travelers and would-be intellectuals who don’t mean a thing in this country!
Joe, shut up! Art Hockstader was right when he said you’re not very sensitive to people. You’re so busy trying to win you never stop to figure out what it is you’re winning.
Russell: Neither the angel of darkness nor the angel of light… if I may exaggerate my goodness … has carried the day. We canceled each other out. Jensen: Allowing the angel of grayness to win, as usual.
